


armour

by OnyxSphinx



Series: newmann one-shots [154]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Confessions, Getting Together, M/M, Movie Night, this is very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: Hermann and Newt have a movie night. Confessions ensue.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: newmann one-shots [154]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286762
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	armour

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "Prompt: It’s hard to find the right word to describe it. Newt is not his boyfriend anymore, but he can’t bring himself to say ex-boyfriend, because it doesn’t feel like that to Hermann. He’s still very much in this relationship even if Newt isn’t."

“Sir?” 

Hermann blinks. “Er—sorry, did you say something?”

The woman—an employee, going by the name tag that reads Ann—shakes her head. “No, you’ve just been staring at the canned soups for fifteen minutes. You alright?”

Oh. Hermann runs his tongue over the inside of his teeth; furrows his brow, and rubs his thumb against the polished, smooth wood head of his cane. “I suppose I have been,” he murmurs. “I must have gotten lost in thought. Ah—" he plucks a can of cream of mushroom soup off the shelf— “I’d better get going, though.”

He retreats—flees, really, but he refuses to use that term—to the refrigerated goods aisle. The soup can is heavy in his grip, and he grimaces; regretting not getting a basket. Better go back and get that now—he still has things to get.

Newton’s asked he grab some things for him as well while he’s out—pressed a handwritten—in his terrible, barely legible chicken-scratch handwriting—list into his hands before Hermann left—, and so, after he gets the basket, he gets his own groceries, and then heads to the self-checkout.

He’s just bagging the last of his items when the phone rings. The caller ID reads _Newton._ He answers it. “Yes?”

“Hey, Herms,” Newton says, his voice slightly cut into by the static of the poor connection, “d’ja remember to grab the swiss cheese?”

“Yes, Newton, I did,” he replies. “It was on the list, remember?”

“Right,” Newton says, “uh—oh, hey Riley!”

“Hey Mister Gottlieb!” comes a cheerful voice from the background, and Hermann frowns.

“What—?”

“Oh, just a neighbour,” Newton explains. “I met him the other day when I, uh. Locked myself out of the house.” He laughs sheepishly. “Riley saw me outside and got me a ladder so I could climb in through the window.”

“…of course your window was unlocked,” Hermann mutters. “You really ought not to do that, though…I am glad you did, in this case. Ah—but no, I was asking about—”

“Probably true,” Newton conceedes, “but no one’s mugged me yet. Oh! And, uh, are you free tonight? Just, um, it’s been a while since we just…hung out, you know.”

Hermann moves the phone from his hand to between his shoulder and ear and types in the pin for his card. “I am, yes,” he says. “Movie, I assume?”

“Yep,” Newton says, popping the _p_. “Alright, man, see you in like, what, twenty? Bye!”

The call ends, and Hermann sighs before putting his phone back in his pocket and returning his card to his wallet. He hasn’t a single clue why Newton’s _neighbour_ would be calling him _Mister Gottlieb_ , but it’s not exactly like he can call Newton back and ask him without it seeming _awkward_ , because, well. 

It’s hard to find the right words to describe it. Newt is not his boyfriend anymore, but he can’t bring himself to say ex-boyfriend because it doesn’t feel like that to Hermann. He’s still very much in this relationship even if Newt isn’t. 

It’s been ten years—one would think Hermann were over it by now, but, well. He’s not. Maybe he was more…more over it during the years they were separated, but now, when they live fifteen minutes from each other and Newton sometimes comes by his office during his lunch break and Hermann sometimes goes to his flat and they curl up on his overstuffed sofa together and watch a film, Hermann isn’t nearly as over it as he thought he was.

Someone behind him clears their throat, and Hermann realises he’s been standing, silent and unmoving, groceries in one hand, cane in the other, for more than just a few seconds. Quickly, he mutters his apologies and moves towards the exit.

The bus ride to Newton’s doesn’t take too long, thankfully, and so, fifteen minutes later, Hermann is standing outside the door to Newton’s flat, finger poised over the doorbell. He’s barely even pressed it when the door opens to reveal Newton, grinning at him. “Hermann!” he exclaims, “c’mon in, man, come in! I, uh, I put a veggie pizza in the oven—you wanna watch _Godzilla_ or _Jurassic Park 2_? Or, uh—I also have _Brokeback Mountain_ and _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ , if you’d rather.”

“Unless you’d like me to be violently ill within the first twenty minutes, that last one isn’t a fantastic idea,” Hermann says, drily. “And we’ve seen Godzilla a few dozen times already.”

“ _I’ve_ seen _Godzilla_ few dozen times,” Newton corrects. Hermann gives him a look, and he adds, “Alright, fair point. So, _Jurassic Park_ or _Brokeback Mountain?_ ”

Hermann shrugs. “I don’t really have a preference.”

Newton nods. “Alright,” he says, “Jurassic Park it is, because otherwise I _will_ cry—” an alarm goes off in the kitchen, and Newton cuts himself off mid-train of thought. “Lemme go get the pizza out—can you get the movie ready while I go grab that? The, uh, the DVDs—”

“Are in the cabinet next to the bookshelf, yes, I know,” Hermann nods. “I’ll get that, you attend to dinner before it burns.”

Newton hurries off into the kitchen. A moment later, the scent of cooked vegetables grows stronger—he must have opened the oven. Hermann moves towards the cabinet to look for the DVD.

He finds it after a few minutes—half-hidden between a copy of the original _The Mummy_ and the entire collection of _Star Trek_ films. Newton comes in just as he pulls it out, and says, “Oh, sweet! Alright, let me just stick these plates on the coffee table—” and takes the disk case from him.

Hermann allows him to; moves to the sofa and picks up one of the plates, watching him put the film on. Newton returns to his side and picks up the other plate, pressing up so they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Newton,” Hermann murmurs, careful not to speak so loudly as to drown out the film, “earlier…”

“Yeah?”

Newton’s not looking at the screen. Instead, his gaze is fixed firmly on Hermann’s face, and he’s got the trace of a worried frown tugging at his lips. “Something up, man?”

Hermann takes a steadying breath and hopes that this won’t bring this wonderful thing crashing down on them. “When you called. The, ah. The neighbour called you Mister Gottlieb?”

“Oh.” Newton blinks. “Uh, yeah, um. So, like, don’t be weirded out or anything, but…when I first moved in, um, some of the neighbours thought they recognised me, and, um. I sort of told them they were wrong? I mean, they asked if I was Newt Geiszler, and I said…I said no, I’m…Newt Gottlieb.”

“Why?”

It tumbles forward without his permission; and Newton flushes; looking away.

“It felt…it felt safe,” he murmurs.

This time, it’s Hermann’s turn to say, “ _Oh_.”

Newton gives a short laugh. “Yeah, um. I know you kind of…you kind of don’t like it, ‘cause it reminds you of your dad, but…it reminds me of you, so…” he shrugs.

“That’s…Newton, I—I don’t know what to say,” he says. The film is still running, but neither of them is paying attention, now. 

“It’s—you can say it’s weird,” Newton assures. “I mean, if you don’t want me to, that’s, that’s chill, obviously.”

“No, no—I—God.” It’s his turn to let out a laugh. “That’s…that’s more than alright, Newton, I…I’m glad it makes you feel safe.”

“ _You_ make me feel safe,” Newton says. “Um. In case you, in case you didn’t know. I, like, love you, you know, right?”

Hermann swallows thickly. “I know now,” he says. “And I love—I _love_ you too, Newton.”

They’ve gravitated closer; and when Newton turns his gaze back to meet Hermann’s, they’re only a scant few centimetres apart. Newton’s gaze flicks down to his lips and then back up again, and he squeaks, “Our food it getting cold.”

Hermann laughs; the tension broken. “It is,” he says. “We’ll have to, ah, to continue after we eat and watch the film, then? If, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Newton says, and grins; the tension that was there draining from him. “Yeah, that—that sounds _sweet_.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
